


Dangerous Game

by goalielove43



Series: Secret Chatroom [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Carolina Hurricanes, Confessions, Cum everywhere, Encouragement, Hand Jobs, Hockey Bubble, M/M, Making Out, Multiple Orgasms, NHL RPF, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Sloppy Makeouts, catching feels, current civil climate discussion, in the closet, sloppy blow jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goalielove43/pseuds/goalielove43
Summary: There's something about it that just undeniably does it for Jordan. He loves getting up in Andrei's face and yelling before the game. He loves it for reasons that he assumes no one else would ever guess, though he feels like he's a little more trapped than usual when he leaves the locker room after the exhibition game.
Relationships: Jordan Martinook/Andrei Svechnikov
Series: Secret Chatroom [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879882
Comments: 15
Kudos: 92





	Dangerous Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [supernaturalsun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturalsun/gifts), [slowestdive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowestdive/gifts).



> Because the world continues to give us more of [this](https://twitter.com/Canes/status/1288563406031728640).  
> See the end for who is who in the chatroom part. (See if you guess right!)  
> Also for supernaturalsun because you asked for more of them and for slowestdive because you told me they were at it again and yeah, I definitely needed that in my life!

There's something about it that just undeniably does it for Jordan. He loves getting up in Andrei's face and yelling before the game. He loves it for reasons that he assumes no one else would ever guess, though he feels like he's a little more trapped than usual when he leaves the locker room after the exhibition game. He's longed to hype himself and Andrei up like that for what feels like too long, has thrived in this insertion into the hockey bubble and the idea that he'll be caged up with the boys for what's hopefully a very long time. 

Still... it's a dangerous game he plays when he gives in and does it. If it were only what it looks like on the surface, then it'd be okay, there'd be nothing to worry about on any level. The issue is that it's _not_. It's far more than that. It's deep and dangerous and it goes so much further in his mind than he'd ever like for someone to find out. For him, getting Andrei against the wall, caging him in... it signifies something entirely different than simple game hype. For him it's everything he's denied himself since he turned thirteen and found out other boys didn't want the things he wants. For him, it's achingly close to the things he wants to do to Andrei behind a closed door. 

For him, it's Andrei's blush that shows up each time he does it. It's his caught breath and the thing his eyes do where Jordan can pretend it's fire licking up from his insides; a twin to Jordan's own.

He does it anyway. He finds the very first excuse to do it and he gets a thrill off their designated PR person filming the whole thing. His stomach clenches in a good way and his body aches to betray him as he walks to Andrei and gets right up his space, yelling. He stops himself from letting it become as intimate as it has in the past, stops the way he boxes Andrei in that causes him to arch from the wall because he has to live with all these guys for possibly months. Because he doesn't need questions or rumors. 

It's not enough.

He thinks those three words over and over, again and again until they hit the first seed game and he captures Andrei outside the range of the camera and does it before they can expose him to the world. This time he backs him up against the wall and he boxes him in, just the way that makes Andrei's hips arch toward him, and he lets their helmets touch when he does it. 

The familiar spike of lust fuels him, ramps him up in ways he hadn't managed the prior game. He watches Andrei's eyes, he sees the lick of fire, and he feels justified. He wants to do this every game, wants to do it after the game, wants to do it with a much different ending than the one they have now. He moves down the hallway and out onto the ice and he thinks about the different ending he really wants, the one where Andrei arches and they're just in jeans and he can _feel_ him. The one where he captures his lips and he kisses him and Andrei likes it and wants it and they end up breathless and sweaty, their lips swollen from kisses and their cum drying between them.

He jerks out of the thought when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder and he forces himself to focus on hockey instead of his desires.

It goes on like that, game after game until he can't stand it anymore, until he's coming unglued on the inside and he feels like he has to give in somewhere or he's going to combust. All these years, he's hid it all so well. When he felt like this, he'd take a short road trip, sneak off somewhere, pull a cap down low over his eyes, and cruise. He knows every park in a thirty mile radius of his home that has a special path just to let him give in. He knows the most low-down gay bars in the county and he knows the places a handful of other guys in the league use in other cities. 

It's still a mystery to him how they all seem to find out about one another, but they do. It had terrified him initially when he'd received the invite to the secret chatroom and the instructions for a VPN, but he'd relaxed when the next day they'd been playing the Capitals and Holtby had slid up on him after the game to put his hand on his shoulder to tell him it wasn't a trap, to say they were trusting him to come into their midst. 

Some of the names in that room still blow his mind.

Tonight it takes everything he has to open the app and type out what he's feeling. 

_Jord: I can't stand it much longer... feel like a fuckin' rat all caged up in here with all my desires hanging out right under the surface. Feels like I'm gonna out myself on accident at any second._

It doesn't really surprise him when he starts seeing quite a few of the guys typing and he just lets it happen, waiting on what they have to say.

_Beast: This doesn't leave here, but I'm pretty sure a few of the guys on my team are shacking up. I can't tell if it's just like... fapping or more. Ngl want to be invited just to find out._

_Frisbee: It's difficult. Same way I feel on the road, just worse. Afraid to even use this except VPN... but even the porn is a no go. God forbid someone open the door and find out what their C really likes._

_Sparkle: Hard place, bud. What's actually going on that makes you feel that way?_

_Trav: Something's HARD_

_Frisbee: Did you hear that loud groan all the way from over here? That's how bad that line was, Trav._

_Trav: you know you want it ;)_

_Kale: Does he ever stop? No? Didn't think so._

Jordan stares down at his phone and lets out a little laugh, watching all the guys who are on filling up his screen, letting their banter drain some of his fears away. 

_Jord: It's... the same as always, I guess. Caught feelings and while I can't say for 100% that he's not into guys, it's a safe bet he's not._

_Kale: Don't let the idea that someone is not even showing a little bit what they want make you think it's not there._

_Sparkle: What he said. It's not like I'd ever dare show anything about what I want, but I know for a fact one of the other guys is at least into men a little. Kind of hard to think otherwise when there's a dildo in his bag. This is also why we should all know better - myself included - than to go through a guy's bag when he's out of the room, even if it was just to douse everything in shaving cream._

_Frisbee: Since we've been in here? That's bravery right there. Airport security plus bubble. I'd never._

_Sparkle: Yeah... same, bud, same. But that's not the discussion here. Just, Jord, is it someone on your team?_

_Jord: Naturally. Would be easier if not._

_Trav: Do we get to make guesses? I have a solid bet here. 1K on who it is._

_Jord: Do NOT say his name in here, fuck! Trying to make this a disaster for all of us?_

_Trav: I didn't say I'd say it here. I'd whisper it to you next time I saw you. That's all._

_Frisbee: Down, boys. Doesn't matter who; just the situation. Why is it more difficult now than before?_

_Jord: I want... well, I want what I always have. It's just that I don't have the breathing room to walk away immediately like before. It's meetings and dinner and ten minutes alone and then fifteen guys surrounding me. This is the first breather since we've been here that I wasn't sleeping. Perpetual go machine means no time to decompress from being so close to him._

_Sparkle: I get it, it's not easy. I'm close to someone I sort of think about like that over here, too. Not easy at all. Worse if he was in the bunch that didn't leave me alone._

_Jord: He doesn't. He practically hangs all over me. Bet he wouldn't if he knew._

_Frisbee: People surprise you, trust me. I think everyone knows who I am in here, but do you think the world would be in shock if they knew? I think they would be._

_Beast: I think some of us they'd guess, but others they wouldn't. I just hate that it's a default to assume het for everyone. Worst level of erasure. - Jord, if you feel safe about it, you can always FaceTime me and we can talk, if that would help._

_Jord: I'm honestly terrified to say a damn word about it outside this chat. Getting found out is my worst nightmare._

_Beast: Fair enough. I used to be like that, now I'm the guy who puts himself out there to get this chat going._

_Jord: Level of bravery I will never achieve._

_Beast: Never say never. I used to be terrified, trust me, things change._

_Frisbee: I'm working up the nerve to talk to someone on my team. Hard as uh... who I am. But I think I need to given who it is. One day. We keep venturing off topic though. Jord, what do you need from us? Anything we can do to help?_

_Trav: Blowjobs?_

_Jord: I'd accept a blowjob from you the same time I'd accept having my balls cut off, so no, Trav._

_Jord: Frisbee, I don't honestly know. I think I needed to not feel alone in feeling suffocated and I have that now. Beyond that... game plan, but that's harder._

_Trav: Way to wreck a guy, man. Shot down in the prime of life._

_Jord: Reign it in, bud. Suck your own dick, we all know you can since you bragged about it so much. At least you have a better helper than the rest of us._

_Trav: Again... the offer is on the table._

_Kale: You walked right back into that, Jord. Be more careful._

_Beast: If I had to hazard a guess as to it being someone on the team and who it might be, then my advice doesn't get you very far. You have a few options though. Suck it up and bury it until later, which, easier said than done. Push the boundaries a little more and see if he snaps about it._

_Frisbee: And if not, keep pushing them a little more over time? Could backfire, but could also open a door._

_Kale: Depends on how far you want to take it. How brave you are about outing yourself. I don't think I could._

_Sparkle: Just tell him. Play it out bluntly and then write it off as a joke if it goes south. I know it sounds horrible to say play something we actually want as a joke, but we also have to lean into the world we live in. I hear things I wish I didn't have to in the locker room every day. Gay, fag, all the other shit thrown around like it's nothing or an insult, like it's bad to be gay. It's hard. But if we lean into that culture a little, we might could find out the truth in a situation like this, right?_

_Jord: So what? Just say something like 'want me to suck your dick'??? That sounds like a good way to get punched._

_Sparkle: Find the opening. Say he seems frustrated, tell him he needs to blow off steam. He tells you something like there's no way to do that in here, implying he'd fuck it out, smile lewdly and tell him you could find a way for him to blow off steam. I think you'd know how to read the reply he gives. If you need to backpedal or find him alone later. I'm not saying it'd resolve into anything more than a one time handie, but... it's something, right? A way to take the edge off the situation?_

_Jord: Might not help feels though._

_Frisbee: Feel him out. Diving in is a bad plan. We're stuck in here. If he gets hostile, you could end up with a building of players angry at you. I know I couldn't just let that happen no matter how terrified I am of being found out. I'd have to step in and I know at least two others in this chat would, too. We'd end up with half the chat outed if it went sour. Let's... not._

_Frisbee: So feel him out instead. Find a way to start asking about how he feels about rights. Not in front of others, like let it be a personal convo, so he doesn't feel pressured to say something he doesn't really feel. Push it if it's positive. Take the conversation to a closer level, like 'what if it was your brother' or something like that. You get it to that point and you get truth from it. Real emotion, real reaction. Then push it to 'what if it was one of the guys' and if that's positive, I think you're grown up enough to figure out how to either come out to him or admit how you've been looking at him. And hey, if he's receptive, we'll have another chat member._

_Jord: Terrifying... and yet..._

_Beast: We have your back. Always here for you, bud._

_Trav: Always._

_Kale: Same._

_Sparkle: Just be careful, bud._

_Jord: Says the guy who says I should ask to suck his dick HA!_

_Sparkle: Well... let's say you're not the only pent up one!_

_Kale: ..._

_Frisbee: I'm signing out before you guys devolve._

_Beast: Little late, bud, it's a freaking Wednesday, everyone's devolved by now._

_Jord: Thanks guys, I'll... I'll either figure it out or whine tomorrow._

_Trav: Bets? No? Yes?_

_Kale: Chill, Trav. Breathe for ten seconds._

He finds it harder after that to just ignore the seeds of feelings that just keep growing. It feels harder to breathe around Andrei than before, feels like his life is a train off the tracks, and he isn't all that surprised when two nights later, he finds himself standing in Andrei's room, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting on him to get his act together to get down to dinner and his mouth opens without his permission. 

It's sort of surreal, standing there knowing he's speaking and yet holding no physical control over it. It's also terrifying in a way he couldn't ever be goaded into putting words to.

"You've seen how the fans are all up in arms about the Black Lives Matter stuff, yeah?"

"I have." Andrei's reply is muffled from the bathroom and Jordan finds himself thankful he's still in there. Styling his hair, which... is ridiculous, but also adorable. "Sad so many feel the need to be hateful. Should be equal without question, but... my country is the same. Hateful to certain people. Perhaps humans are somehow built to be like this and some of us learn not to be."

"One way to look at it. Another is they learn the hate from what's around them. Hateful people are loud. It's like when someone doesn't like a movie and they bitch and moan for days about how shitty it was, but someone who liked it says 'I like it' and moves on? Same issue, perhaps. Just louder..."

"Then we should be louder."

Jordan shifts and leans against the wall, stares up at the ceiling and sighs. "That's hard, too, but I think we need to be. People look up to us. If we all stand united, then we give them no choice if they want to watch our sport, right? They'll cave eventually. Become quieter at some point."

"Would require the league to let us be that loud and it would have to be on everything. Not just this. And it's hard to be united when there are hateful people here, too. They would never stay silent through being told to stand up. We only managed to get everyone to agree to stand because it wasn't kneeling. Imagine if it had been kneeling... the backlash. Sad, but the truth."

It hurts to hear it like that, but it wasn't like Jordan didn't know. He's heard the comments, he's seen in the chatroom the fallout from one of the guys having hateful words thrown right at him by his own team. It hurts. It aches in ways Jordan has no idea how to deal with when it comes right down to it. He's just one guy. One lonely guy catching feels for his teammate and while he can sense he's one of the good ones, it doesn't mean he won't lash out the instant he finds out who Jordan really is.

It feels like losing control, like driving off a cliff and expecting the breaks and wheel to do something. But it also feels like there's something inevitable happening and he's helpless to stop it. 

"It's not just this either. It's like PRIDE night. How quick some of the guys are to rip off the tape, how hard it was to start with for the league to encourage it to happen, how they kept having to say it's only one night, telling everyone they can just suck it up for practice only. We couldn't even get a whole game out of it, just warmies. It's not enough either. A few rainbows to pretend like we give a flying shit about non-heterosexual, non-cis people. It's... fuckin' dumb."

"Cis?" The question comes floating out of the bathroom, the tone careful, as if Andrei is afraid to be asking.

Jordan takes a minute to sort his words out, to not stick his own foot in his mouth. This part of LGBTQ+ isn't his portion, but his support for all portions is unyielding and he'd hate to accidentally say something in the wrong way. Finally, he manages, "Trans individuals would not be cis. Non-binary and intersex people are not cis. Cis is like... you identify with the label you were slapped with at birth."

"Oh, I didn't know there was a term. Good to know."

Things are quiet from the bathroom after that and it takes Jordan a minute to regroup, to figure out how to continue this conversation. When he does, he shoves his hands in his pockets instead and closes his eyes, just leaning there against the wall still. "But yeah... it's not enough. I'm not sure anything we could ever get the league to do would be. It's just... it is what it is, I guess, but I hate thinking like that. I feel like I should be able to push for more, but at the same time I'm afraid to."

He hears feet on carpet and remains as he is for fear of opening his eyes after such a revealing statement. 

"I understand. It is not easy, it feels like pushing back would make hateful people be louder sometimes. Hard to push when you're from a country like mine, too. Even speaking up about it could put someone like me in a bad situation, but it feels wrong to be quiet, too. It's a decision at that point, how much are you willing to risk. It's like Brown said, he had to be prepared to lose his whole career for what he did and all he did was raise a fist. That's the world we live in. Decisions like that."

"We wouldn't have been jobless if we did it." It's a statement he spits out in distaste and it leaves him feeling bitter and angry at the injustice of it. He'd felt it then and feels it now. He's just glad that's not how it ended for Brown, but it could have and it did for others in other sports. It's upsetting at best, world collapsing at truth.

"We would be if we were honest about who we are."

The words are spoken close by, closer than he thought Andrei was, and his eyes snap open at the comment. He stares at him in what amounts to half fear and half thrill. There's hope in the frog in his throat and there's lead in his stomach. Is he being played or is he being given private information? **We.** It means Andrei knows. It means Andrei _is_. 

He can't talk. He tries and tries, his mouth opens and nothing happens. He feels sick and heady and alive and terrified.

"Say something..."

He finally meets Andrei's eyes, sees the fear there, the way he seems so very close to a ledge of his own and he doesn't think, he just reaches for him and Andrei comes. He just steps into his arms and leans in and Jordan wraps him up in his arms and lets himself relax. 

"We're not the only ones," he murmurs softly and it feels like a breath of fresh air. "It's more than you'd care to hope for... or at least more than I'd ever hoped. I always thought if there's even one other guy... but it's more than one."

Andrei relaxes in his arms, almost curls up there, right against him, against the wall and Jordan strokes over his back. "How'd you figure it out... about me?"

"Wished... that's all."

He pushes his hand into Andrei's hair and holds on, hope surging inside him. "Wished that I was into guys?"

There's a tiny breath of a laugh against his collarbone and then a lite kiss against his throat. "Or maybe just into me."

"Oh... I'm _very_ into you. Trust me."

"I kind of noticed."

Jordan takes himself by surprise when he reverses their positions and pushes Andrei against the wall and leans in like he has every time in the chute and he touches their foreheads to each other and whispers out, "Mr. Svechnikov." He watches the blush crawl up Andrei's cheeks, sees the flare in his eyes, gasps when he arches and their hips meet and instantly he melds himself against him, just feeling his warmth.

"I'd hoped," he whispers into the air between them, everything vulnerable spilling out of him for Andrei's perusal. 

"If you'd felt, you'd have known."

He huffs out a laugh and shifts to catch Andrei's mouth with his own, a pleasant shudder working its way along his nerve endings as their lips meet and slide against one another. It's everything he wanted and more. It's pleasure and emotion and _right_. 

Suddenly it doesn't matter that the team's dinner hour is now. It doesn't matter that they'll miss out on what sounded like a really pleasant meal. All that matters is that this is happening, that Andrei is arching into Jordan and Jordan's aching in his pants. That he can taste Andrei's toothpaste and under it the remnants of blue Gatorade. 

He deepens the kiss and Andrei makes a tiny noise against his mouth. It's hungry and needy and works a shudder down Jordan's spine. He crowds him closer against the wall and wonders if he's coming completely unglued. He feels like it. Unhinged. Upended. Blown apart into a million pieces. And yet... strangely whole.

It's settling in a way to not be fighting this anymore, to know he can just have and take and give all he wants to. It's freedom and it's a lack of pressure and he doesn't think about it when he breathes, "I want to make you cum," against Andrei's mouth.

Andrei's hips jerk against his and he kisses him harder before he pulls back and kneels, unzips Andrei's pants and doesn't hesitate to bury his face against his briefs. It's a fantasy he's fought down for what feels like forever and he just gives in, inhaling and nuzzling against the fabric, mouthing at his erection and teething his way up along his length. Andrei's hand's in his hair and his hips cant and Jordan's coming undone. He sucks at the head through the thin cotton and leaves a giant wet patch of saliva before he pulls the fabric out of the way and gets his mouth on Andrei's dick, sucking needily at the head, yanking the elastic until he's bared him enough to take most of his length into his mouth.

His cheeks hollow as he sucks, his mouth floods with saliva and he goes for messy just the way he loves to suck a dick. There's spit dripping from his chin, wetting the fabric nearby. He's making lewd sounds and it's clear Andrei's doing his best to swallow up loud moans that want out, desperate sounds that try to fill the air but end up choked off and torn away.

Andrei's hand tries to yank at his hair and he hears the frantic gasps, hears the strangled, "Jor... Jord! I... oh!" and then there's a hot rush of cum spilling into his mouth and Andrei's hips are flexing of their own accord, pushing his cock further into his mouth as he cums, pulse after pulse filling Jordan's mouth. He swallows as much as he lets drool out of his mouth. He's messy and frantic and goddamn desperate to keep sucking dick for as long as he can. His thighs are spread wide and he's only just barely conscious of how his hips are rocking, how he's using the friction of the movement to try to cum with Andrei's dick in his mouth.

He wants to. He wants to spurt in his pants with the knowledge that right now, right here there aren't regrets. This very instant is perfection.

Andrei makes a whimpery noise that Jordan knows is overstimulation setting in. He stops sucking and holds his cock in his mouth, against his tongue, gently lapping at the underside, feeling it starting to soften in between his lips and he loves this, too. He loves feeling a dick getting hard and he loves feeling it getting soft after he's made the guy cum. Andrei lets him sit there with his prick in his mouth until he's fully soft, until the next swipe of Andrei's tongue makes him shudder a little too hard and then he pulls out, gently tips Jordan's head back and stares down at him with blown out pupils and a stunned look on his face.

Jordan aches. He's so hard he thinks he might combust. He's so _close_ he thinks moving at all will make him orgasm. Some baser part of him wants that, wants to unzip, expose just the tip of his dick and cant his hips, just so, and lose it on the carpet while Andrei watches him. The other part wants to be touched in return, wants to hang on so he can see if Andrei wants to touch him in any way.

They're quiet for a moment that's almost too long and then Andrei breathes out, "Do you want to fuck me?"

And god, he does. He _so_ does. But it'd also be over far too fast for his liking. He'll fuck him next time. He imagines Andrei needing his hand over his mouth to keep quiet, imagines him arching under him and cumming while he's impaled on his dick and he almost jizzes himself from the image alone. He groans, closes his eyes, and clings to the cliff he feels so ready to fall off of. He manages, "I'm so close... I want to, but... too fast."

There's a shuffle and then lips against his own, Andrei's mouth hot against him, his hands working Jordan's pants open. The first touch nearly does him in, Andrei's hand around Jordan's dick, warm and real and _Andrei_. He pulls back from the kiss to see it, to stare down at Andrei's hand wrapped around his cock, his thumb gently teasing the head, and then Andrei says the best words Jordan's ever heard. 

"Fuck my fist, cum on me."

Jordan groans and he uses Andrei's thighs for leverage, shifts his position just so, and then he's humping, watching his dick fuck in and out of Andrei's fist and he doesn't let himself care about too fast or too soon or how fucking desperate he looks. Because he _is_ exactly that desperate. He needs this. Needs Andrei. 

He chokes out Andrei's name, his hips bucking forward hard a few times, and then he's locked in place, trembling as he unloads. Cum shoots hot and thick over Andrei's forearm and wrist, splashes the floor between them, and he gives a few tight jerks of his hips because of how good it feels, and he grits his teeth as he forces himself to fuck against his hand through the oversensitivity until he's trembling, shaking with a need he knows he can satisfy. He chokes out, "Please," and Andrei's jerking him off, stroking harsh and quick and Jordan's toes curl in his shoes and he lets out a strangled sound as he shoots a second time, this time all over the floor, his hips bucking wildly. Andrei keeps stroking him until he has to grab his wrist and hold on, gasping for air, overstimulated in all the right ways, and he keeps them like that as he comes down, as he melts out into something a little easier, a little less frantic.

They sit there on the scratchy hotel carpet, covered in spit and jizz, their foreheads pressed against one another and it feels easy in a way Jordan hadn't expected. Andrei doesn't let go for quite a while. When he does, it's only to move closer, to reel Jordan in and kiss him, to press them against one another and make out despite all the saliva and cum, despite the mess they've both made that's getting all over their clothes. It feels irrelevant. 

It feels like heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> Jordan Martinook = Jord  
> Braden Holtby = Beast (HOLTBEAST!)  
> Sidney Crosby = Frisbee (Please don't ask, I just thought what dumbass name would Sid choose and my brain went HEH FRISBEE and here we are...)  
> Tyler Seguin = Sparkle (Seguin... sequin... I think I'm funny)  
> Travis Konecny = Trav (Somehow this poor man thinks Trav isn't obvious... sort of like Jordan thinks Jord isn't obvious either... redic boys)  
> Cale Makar = Kale (Also think I'm funny and I think he'd be that level of funny to do it)


End file.
